


The fears of a fearless man

by Keenir



Category: game of thrones
Genre: Gen, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/pseuds/Keenir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though we may not admit it, sometimes dreams show us what we hope never comes to pass.  This is certainly true for Jaime Lannister on this night and on other nights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The fears of a fearless man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pyreneeees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyreneeees/gifts), [elynross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elynross/gifts).



> Many thanks to Elynross, for giving me those extra hours to get this back from my beta. This would not have been possible without you.

* * *

****

  
**  
_Previously: “You were loyal when it was easy to be loyal.” -Ned Stark to Jaime._   
**   


  


* * *

_Jaime Lannister was famous across the kingdoms for his complete and utter lack of fear; not even death scared him. And that was true, but it was also incomplete._

 _Next to nothing frightened the boy of the Lannister twins. But as none but he knew of those exceptions, Jaime was of no mind to correct misapprehension._

 _He did not worry over how past events might have gone differently... if Jaime gave any thought to what might have happened if the Mad King (late king) Targaryen had tried to stop him from committing regicide, Jaime simply would smile, secure in the knowledge sure and certain that he would have dealt with that, and with the same end result for the late king._

 _He hid his fear well. Easy enough to do - most times a glimmer of it showed, any witnesses were running around in a tizzy over one thing or another. Those rare few times not covered by that, the witnesses mistook his momentary expression for something else._

 _But make no mistake, Jaime knew fear. And in the night, his mind gave it shape in dream..._

* * *

He stood in the throne room and Cersei came to join him; aside from herself, he was alone here.

Cersei came up to him, drawing him against her. He in his armor, she in that cloth gown of the type which queenship required be worn on all days. "I knew I would find you here," she said.

"Who knows me better?"

"You," Cersei said. An old joke a bygone tutor had taught them, based on how some languages in the world's kingdoms said 'individual person' in singular, and but also in dual. Twins. Like themselves.

"As I said," Jaime said.

"Plans for today?" she asked between nibbles to his throat. "Tonight?"

"Nothing comes to mind, strangely."

He felt her smile. "Not even Stark? Or my husband?"

"Only if I need to."

She was quiet a long long moment, not that he was in mind or mood to complain. "You're dangerous," Cersei whispered against his neck.

"So I've heard," Jaime said.

The dagger slid between his ribs, under his armor, before even he noticed. Sometimes puncturing, sometimes rupturing his heart. All the same, blood flowed and the dagger never left him entirely - the curve of his armor saw to that. Cersei took her time backing a step away, knowing he would not draw his blade against his twin, against she.

He looked at Cersei.

"You were loyal before," she said. "Stark was right. And I can't take that chance," with, unspoken on her face was the rest of that statement: _'the Starks and the Targaryens are sufficient danger._ '

And Jaime knew they would be dealt with an equal amount of finality. That didn't salve how he felt at dying like this...

Watched clinically as he passed into the realms of trees or gods or grass or whatever there was beyond life itself.

* * *

Cries of “KHAAALEESII” soared and dove through the air. Some who heard it, they bowed in readiness for a new ruler; others who heard it, they ran in fear of reprisals or of horsemen; but the majority who heard it, they picked up the call and repeated it so it carried even further still.

It never mattered what he did. In some dreams, he fled and was captured, either by Dothraki or by people hoping to curry favor with the Stormbringer. In other dreams, Jaime remained where he was in the courtyard, the throne room, or the fields, and let the horsemen come to him, surrounding him.

“Daenerys,” Jaime said. _You've grown up._

“Khaleesi,” one of the horsemen corrected him.

“Your majesty?” Jaime asked, indulging to buy time.

“You killed my father,” Khaleesi Daenerys said. "But _that_ is not why I am here."

 _Revenge_ did not worry Jaime. It never did. Nor did some peoples' fear and avoidance of revenge.

It was when someone _could_ revenge themselves... But chose not to.

"Thank you, your grace," Jaime Lannister said, hiding his feelings, burying them so his voice could not carry the tones or currents of concern.

“You want to know something, Lannister?” Daenerys asked. “Would you care to hear?”

 _Why is she suddenly being nice to me?_ “I would, majesty,” Jaime said. “Your grace.”

Daenerys shouted something, a single word as far as Jaime could tell, and all the Dothraki fell silent. But all smiled.

And Jaime could hear it, a sound growing steadily and slowly louder. It must have been a whisper at one point, but barely that any longer.

A dozen gutteral sounds flavored the language of clicks shaped and spoken like fervent scratches, scritch-scratching at bindings and casings holding one in. Claws against bone, beaks scraping stiff leather. For all the ways the poets had of describing, all the literary and sung analogies fell short of the feeling induced by the real thing: a terror in one’s gut.

The mind could protest and object, could pretend the sound was something else. But Jaime knew, deep down, that what was coming were the allies of the Dothraki.

“Gods… How did you get the White Walkers and Wildings to join you?” Jaime asked.

Daenerys smiled down upon him.

* * *

"Hello, brother, so nice of you to join us," Tyrion said.

"Where else would I have gone," Jaime asked upon entering the throne room, trying his damnedest not to behold his littler brother sitting in the throne.

"Elsewhere. Perhaps a nice whorehouse - I can reccommend several if you like. Or elsewhere to drink."

"I have no need to drink, but to my brother's wise kingship," trying not to think of whispers he had heard, back when he was the Mad King's own Hand...that the Mad King had begun as a scholar, as a thinker. _Rumors,_ Jaime had dismissed them then, as he shunt them away now. _They must be._

"And that is why you are my favorite," Tyrion said. "Of all our family, you."

"My King flatters me."

The King laughed.

 _It cannot be beginning._ He could do many things, Jaime knew; but he was not sure he could end his dwarf brother's life.

* * *


End file.
